


Out camping in the basin

by sakasamasa



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad Writing, Fluff, M/M, Snuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8522569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakasamasa/pseuds/sakasamasa
Summary: Badly written, mild Male Adaar/Dorian fluff.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [achildofyavanna](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=achildofyavanna).



> Ahh, this is my first fanfic I'm posting here. I wrote this on a whim, and it's much too short for my liking, but I'm pretty okay with what it is now.  
> This fic is dedicated to achildofyavanna/transfrerin on Tumblr. Thanks for giving me the prompt (read: the kick in the back I needed) and I hope you like it!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I'm by no means a professional writer. I write as a hobby and am not very invested in literature and all that jazz. Basically: if it's shit, please tell me.

The Frostback basin. A lovely, picturesque wilderness filled with the most beautiful sights and sounds in Southern Thedas. Home to an extensive range of unique wildlife and fauna; the basin was a place brimming with life at every twist and turn. 

Adaar would've liked to enjoy all the beautiful magnificence the exotic jungle had to offer, were he not ankle-deep in icy water being attacked by oversized spiders. 

Magic sparked and crackled around him as he charged towards the remaining arachnid spewing venom at its adversaries. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, but even that did not quell the overbearing exhaustion that nagged at his conscience as he moved with all the grace he could muster. With a final swoop, he felled the eight-legged menace, embedding his greatsword deep into the creature's head. A pitched cry escaped the beast before its body collapsed to the ground.

The hum of magic disappeared and weapons were sheathed once again, leaving only the sloshing of water and the chirping of birds.

"Is everyone alright?" He turned, looking to his companions.

"All good here, Boss," Bull nodded.

"Yeah, we're good," Sera chimed, harshly tugging an arrow out of a spider's corpse.

"Quite alright," Dorian joined in, glaring at his now waterlogged boots.

The sun was setting, the last of its golden rays peeking out just above the horizon. If anything, it made Adaar feel even more tired, and he longed for a place to rest his feet.

"I say we find a place to settle down; don't want to backtrack all the way to camp from here. Everyone with me?"

The team nodded in agreement, undoubtedly equally weary. Straying from the river, they set out to find a place to take refuge for the night.

 

Sera was happily chattering away, picking at a bread roll in her hand while Bull listened with intrigue. Flames of a small campfire flickered and swayed, casting a glow against the cracked walls of a forgotten Tevinter fortress and radiating a pleasant warmth. Adaar sat against the remnants of a broken staircase, a thick, hide blanket draped loosely over his shoulders, observing the ruins and nimbly chewing on the last piece of his own bread roll. He'd cast off his armor, although he'd kept his sword close by, just in case any more hostile wildlife should encounter them.

A dusk sky shrouded the basin in an eerie darkness, light just barely shining through the thick foliage.

Sera and Bull were jubilantly exchanging stories, gleeful expressions on their faces. Although he'd listened with mild interest, Adaar's attention was slowly shifting to the man at his left.

Dorian sat cross legged atop his bed roll, thoroughly absorbed in a book, paying no mind to the joyful chatter. 

Though he seemed content, Adaar didn't miss the slight shiver in his posture and the furrow of his brow when a light breeze swept across the ground. 

Adaar shifted, reaching out just enough to capture the other's attention.

"Hey," he whispered, a mischievous grin on his face as he gestured to the ground before him, "Get over here." 

Dorian gave him a quizzical look, but complied as he closed the book and moved over to him. He settled down in front of Adaar, looking back with a slightly worried look.

"So," he began, keeping his voice down, "what is this ab-"

A gasp escaped him as Adaar pulled him closer against his chest and draped the large blanket over his shoulders. Warmth blossomed all around him and a flush rose to his cheeks.

"You were cold, weren't you?" 

"Well, yes, but you could've warned me!" 

Dorian's indignant retort clashed with his flustered tone, and Adaar couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically, "I'll make sure to warn you next time."

The other huffed in exasperation, but tugged the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

"Is this..." Dorian's tone shifted, "...okay? We aren't exactly alone."

Dorian's eyes drifted to his companions, who seemed entirely unperturbed by the situation, chatting away carelessly. His voice was hushed, an unmistakable note of anxious worry present.  Adaar felt a pang of guilt at his carelessness, and he held Dorian closer to him, gently yet firmly.

"It's okay, don't worry about it," he assured, "you're comfortable, right?"

"I... yes," Dorian conceded before settling against the other's chest and once more opening the book.

Adaar smiled to himself, looking back to the two storytellers striking exaggerated poses in their seats.

Just at that moment, Sera turned to them with a whimsical smile.

"Hey, Inquisitor! You were a mercenary once, yeah? The Valor-Caste or something?"

"The Valo-Kas," Adaar corrected her with a chuckle.

"You always butcher the pronunciation, Boss," Bull chided.

"Yeah, yeah." Sera waved her hand at him, taking another bite of her bread.

"So, what's the craziest job you ever been set up with?"

 

And so, night fell.

Dorian sat snugly in the arms of Adaar, his book closed in his lap. He listened to tales told and shared his own, exhaustion replaced by a rather dozy feeling of an almost familial comfort.  Embers ate away at the last patches of dry wood, radiating a faint glow. Though the air was still, voices still rebounded against the withered walls of the ruins, laughing and cheerful.


End file.
